


I'm only lonely when I'm drunk

by clxude



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Getting Together, Kinda?, M/M, Memory Loss, SO MUCH ALCOHOL, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, canon compliant for a bit, ciao ciao didn't sign up for this, grand prix final gala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:07:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9674108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clxude/pseuds/clxude
Summary: Katsuki Mari likes to say she has two brothers - sober Yuuri, shy and docile, and fucking wasted Yuuri, thoughtless and flirtatious.Yuuri might have sworn off alcohol, but that doesn't mean it won't help him one last time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> when will i not be trash for soulmate aus  
> victuuri week - day 6 _AU: soulmates_
> 
> edited by rosywiki/kxrasuno

“Remember,” Celestino says in the elevator down to the ballroom where the Grand Prix Finals gala is being held, “there is no shame in coming in last. Making it even this far is nearly impossible for most skaters. You’re still young - you can bounce back next year.”

 

Celestino sounds so sure, so confident, Yuuri just about believes him, until the doors open and he’s swallowed up by the cameras waiting outside, snapping pictures with blinding lights, shouting their questions over each other just to be heard.

 

“How does your performance affect your plan for the rest of the season?”

 

“Do you believe you can overcome this?”

 

“You haven’t commented on your performance yet, Katsuki - “

 

“Come on,” Celestino says, a firm hand pressed against Yuuri’s back. “Ignore them.”

 

…

 

Katsuki Mari likes to say she has two brothers - sober Yuuri, shy and docile, and fucking  _ wasted  _ Yuuri, thoughtless and flirtatious. He vehemently denied it for years until she finally recorded him, drunk off his ass and flirting with everyone in sight in a bar in Tokyo. He swore off alcohol after that.

 

Or he did, until the first server came his way with a tray full of champagne flutes. He thanks them and takes the occasional sip just so he has something to do with hands, walking through the crowds with Celestino. He’s supposed to be talking to the other skaters, coaches, and sponsors, but when no one else tries to initiate conversation, it’s easy to avoid it.

 

Eventually, he strays from Celestino, discarding his champagne glass and snagging another from the first server he sees. He finds an empty table in a back corner, clear of the crowd forming in the center of the room. 

 

It’s still early in the night, and most of the top skaters have yet to arrive. Under the stereo, Yuuri can hear the live band tuning their instruments and warming up. He finds a third glass of champagne and a few hors d'oeuvres before migrating back to his corner. He wishes Phichit had made it to the Grand Prix Finals, but if he did, Yuuri is fairly certain he would have spent the evening stuck being dragged around by his best (only) friend for selfies with other skaters and the impressive ice sculpture in the opposite corner of the room.

 

He’s halfway through his fifth glass when Victor Nikiforov walks in. Even as the double doors swing shut behind him, his coach, and the other Russian skaters, camera lights continue to flash. 

 

Yuuri’s eyes flicker over the gold medalist, taking in his probably overpriced suit. It’s been his dream for as long as he can remember to skate in the same competition as his idol, but he definitely didn’t dream of it ending like this.

 

The next time a server comes around, he takes two glasses and swallows down the bubbles as soon as his back is turned.

 

…

 

It’s sometime around flute number thirteen - when even  _ he  _ knows he’s drunk, can feel the alcohol coursing through his veins and heating him from the top of his head to tips of his toes - that Celestino finds him and his growing collection of crystal wear.

 

“You can’t just - “ the coach sputters. 

 

Yuuri goes for a fourteen, but Celestino takes it out of his hand and sets it down.

 

“Nooo,” he whines.

 

“You’re in  _ public,  _ Yuuri,” his coach chides. “Even if you came in sixth, you can’t start drinking like this. You’re going to have to get your stomach pumped at this rate.”

 

“I have a… I have a strong tolerance,” Yuuri slurs. “Mmm, higher than most.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, Yuuri. I really don’t want to wake up your parents in Japan when you have alcohol poisoning.” 

 

“Yep, mmm, okay.” He bumps into Celestino. “Imma go...talk to Phichit or something.”

 

“He’s not here, Yuuri.”

 

“I know that!” Yuuri shrieks, pushing back his coach. “It’s called a phone.”

 

Celestino sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay. You can do that, but no more champagne, and no complaining about your hangover on the flight back to Detroit tomorrow. Deal?”

 

“Deal!” Yuuri smiles, playfully fist bumping Celestino’s pectoral. 

 

It takes another glass of champagne to remember what he said he was going to do, and by that point, he doesn’t know where the fuck his phone is, but hey, there’s another glass of wine in his hand. He drinks that one, stumbling through the crowd, giggly and loose. He drinks one more glass before ditching that idea altogether and snagging a bottle.

 

He finds his way back into the crowd. Most figure skaters like to believe they’re prim and proper, above the throng of bodies, the pressure, and the heat, the pull of human flesh. But there are two hands on his hips, a body pressed up against his, and Christophe Giacometti is leaning up against him, whispering  _ ‘come dance with me’  _ into the crook of his neck, low and sultry.

 

He’s pulled out of the crowd, or maybe further in, he can’t tell, but he’s dancing with Chris, losing himself in the music. After that, he loses all sense of cognitivity and reason until it’s just the movement of Chris’ hips, the flash of distant cameras.

 

“Aw, Victor, feeling lonely?” Yuuri looks up and sees him, his idol. He blushes, but it just might be the alcohol, and the fact that he’s a messy drunk in front of his long time idol. “You can come over as well.”

 

As soon Victor takes a step towards them, Yuuri throws himself at him, arms wrapped around his waist. The fabric of his suit is rough against Yuuri’s bare skin. He peers up at the other man, eyes hazy from the alcohol. But, even still, something about Victor seems to shine and glow. Sparkly, like a billion diamonds coming together to form the perfect human.

 

Victor lets out a soft gasp, and  - 

 

“Victor~~” Yuuri sighs. “Will you be my coach? You could stay at my family’s onsen with me~~”

 

“I’m - “ The word is choked off. Yuuri holds him closer, content. “Are we? Yuuri, I -  “

 

“Yuuri!” He lets go right away when Celestino yells his name. “I told you not to drink anymore.”

 

“But it tastes good!” 

 

“That doesn’t matter, Yuuri. Put your damn clothes back on. I swear to God, and Victor! I’m so sorry my skater did this to you.”

 

Victor laughs, his mouth going all heart-shaped, but something in his eyes seems different. He holds his hands up. “It’s fine, Celestino. But, ah, call me, Yuuri?”

 

“Of course,” but Yuuri is drunk enough, out of it enough, to slump into Celestino’s arms and promptly pass out a few seconds later.

 

…

 

When he wakes up, his throat feels like it’s been shredded with glass shards. Celestino left Tylenol and a bottle of water by his bed, and even once he swallows the medication, something still feels off.

 

He’s brushing his teeth when he notices it - a golden rash on his arm, that under further inspection proves to be a soulmark. He tries to do a quick rundown of everyone he came in contact with the night before, but things are blurred by the amount of alcohol he consumed and the pounding in his head.

 

“Fuck,” he whispers, before forcing himself into the shower. For the past few years, he’s been avoiding the topic as best he can, and now it’s caught up with him, completely unexpected. 

 

His mother always told him putting off the topic would just make it harder, more unexpected in the long run. But, with skating, there was never time. He was still young, he had  _ time  _ -

 

But, it’s evident he’s finally run out.

 

…

 

He sees Victor in the airport. His heart trips up, but he forces it down and keeps walking. A reporter tries to ask him about his plans for the rest of the season, but frankly, Yuuri doesn’t have any fucking idea, and with the sudden soulmark winding its way up his arm, it’s hard to focus on his career. 

 

“Yuuri!”

 

He turns around to see Victor, smiling at him. His eyes seem sad, though, and Yuuri tries to not think about it.

 

“Why didn’t you - ?”

 

He’s turning around before Victor can finish the question, because  _ fuck  _ this, he doesn’t need the five time gold medalist asking why he didn’t place.

 

…

 

Victor haunts his thoughts for the rest of the season, as well as his soulmark. It seems to throb every time he so much as walks past the rink, and when he’s performing, it feels like it’s on fire - not burning, just a heat that seems to sink into his bones.

 

…

 

When he loses the Japanese Nationals, he packs up in Detroit and goes home with a degree. The ice doesn’t quite feel like his anymore - foreign and cold. He watches one of Victor’s performances - his free skate at Four Continents - on the flight home. It’s mesmerizing, but it’s nothing compared to seeing his untamed grace in person.

 

…

 

“Yuuri!” 

 

“Hi, Mom.” To say that he missed her, to say that he missed  _ Hasetsu,  _ is a major understatement. So much of the town has changed over the past few years while he was away.

 

“How are you, Yuuri?” She holds him by his elbows, smiling up at him. “You look like grown some. Are you eating well? I’m sorry I missed your graduation, but I couldn’t leave the inn.”

 

“It’s fine, Mom.” He scratches the back of his neck, blushing slightly. It’s been years since he was coddled like this. 

 

“Have you met your soulmate yet? I know I asked you not that long ago, but anything could have happened since then. After all - “

 

“About that, actually - ”

 

She lets go of him and claps her hands together. “You met them! Tell me all about them, Yuuri!”

 

“I don’t know who it is.”

 

She blinks.

 

“I got kind of drunk at the gala after the Grand Prix, and I woke up with my soulmark. I don’t remember what happened.”

 

She sighs, shaking her head. “I just hope, whoever you're bonded with is more responsible than you.”

 

“Hey!” he yelps. “I’m responsible.”

 

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure.”

 

…

 

“Can I show you something Yuuko?”

 

It’s the first time he’s ever performed  _ Stay by Me  _ in front of anyone, but it feels a bit like he’s stepping somewhere he shouldn’t, crossing an unseen boundary. But he leaves it all out - every emotion, every time he thought of meeting Victor, everything he thought his skating career would be - leaves it all out on the ice, until he’s just skin and muscle and bone, burning gold on his inner arm.

 

...

 

He skates some, over the next few weeks, but takes it easy for the most part. He helps out around the inn, cooks katsudon with Mari, hangs out at the rink with Yuuko and Tadashi. It’s slow and easy to fall into - a safe space where people love him, don’t push him to be something he’s not, don’t ask him why he didn’t,  _ couldn’t, _ go further.

 

And then - 

 

“Yuuri! There’s a really good looking foreign guest in the hot spring,” his father says as he walks around the corner. Yuuri looks up at him from the floor, a large poodle impeding most movements. “Oh! I see you’ve already met his dog.”

 

“Poodle,” Yuuri sounds, and in an instant it hits him. He scrambles to his feet as quickly as he can, sprinting through every room of the onsen until he finds him.

 

“Victor,” he whispers. There was a small part of him that was hoping for it from the second he saw the poodle, but now, there he is, soaking in the outdoor pool. “Why are you here?”

 

“Why didn’t you call?” he asks, voice light and airy, but it doesn’t hide the betrayal clear in his voice. “You said you would.”

 

“I did?”

 

“At the gala?”

 

“Oh - I’m sorry. I was really drunk.” He starts to laugh, but stops when Victor’s face remains serious. “I can’t remember anything that happened.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah, so could you tell me what happened? I mean, I really don’t mind you being here, like at all, but like - yeah.” He’s blushing heavily by the time he stops talking.

 

“We’re soulmates. Or, at least I would believe so, judging by the gala and the mark on my arm.” Victor tilts his head back. His skin is wet, shining in the light of the outdoor lamps.

 

“That’s so - “

 

“Cute?” Victor offers, the edges of his mouth curling.

 

“Shut up.” He rolls up his sleeve, displaying in gold swirls on his arm. Over the past few months, it’s become less of a glittering mass and more of a clearly defined set of swirls and crisscrossing lines. “I found this, the morning after the gala.”

 

Victor looks back to him, smiling widely - heartshaped. “I have a matching one. It’s good for finally meet you, soulmate.”

 

“It’s good to meet you as well, Victor.”

 

And then it begins, and Yuuri melts, but Victor is right there - by his side, step by step.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed it! kudos/comments/requests appreciated!!  
> tumblr: violet-boy (main) mother-iwa-chan (animanga) claude-lit (writing)  
> twitter: cactixix


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